


take it higher, easy rider

by inkk



Series: the fabulous adventures of fratboy dave & stoner kirk [3]
Category: Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Closeted Character, Comeplay, Creampie, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Overstimulation, Recreational Drug Use, Vanilla, can be read as a stand-alone, this started out cutesy and got weird real fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: “Nice shirt,” Dave drawls, reaching up to tap on Kirk’s sternum.Camp Pine Bough 1975, it says in red bubble letters.Summer fun has just begun!Kirk flushes. “I got dressed in a hurry.”
Relationships: Kirk Hammett/Dave Mustaine
Series: the fabulous adventures of fratboy dave & stoner kirk [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918543
Comments: 20
Kudos: 41





	take it higher, easy rider

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [pinkmaggit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkmaggit) as repayment for [these drawings](https://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com/post/634437007709503488) (based off of [this](https://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com/post/634342704655073280/dave-and-lars-are-like-you-should-be-addicted-to) ask) which i am still SO fucking obsessed with jsfksjsj  
> -  
> also uh… happy december everybody !! wherever you are, i hope you & your loved ones are having a safe start to the holiday season.  
> im still not sure if im fully satisfied with this fic lmao (it was originally way longer but i ended up lopping 2k words of come-as-lube sex off of the end?? whoops??) but at this point i just gotta clear shit outta my drafts & keep chugging, so ... pls accept this humble gift of porn, i hope u enjoy 💘

+

It’s been a long day.

Like, a _long_ day.

Lars’ hacking cough kept Kirk up until 3AM last night, and he ended up sleeping through his alarm this morning. He woke up late for class and had to book it across campus in his Star Wars pyjama pants at nine in the goddamn morning, skidding into the lecture hall twenty minutes late with mumbled apologies as a hundred and fifty heads swivelled around to snicker at his bedhead. Honest-to-god nightmare fuel.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he dorm fire drill coincided with his lunch break, meaning he showed up to Psych feeling nauseous and hungry, and since Lars was out sick, he didn’t even have anyone to bitch about it with. 

And finally, to top things off, his Creative Fiction prof handed his first assignment back with a big, fat B- at the bottom of the last page.

_Disorganized, lacks tension. Needlessly graphic. Please see rubric._

So, yeah. Safe to say Kirk isn’t feeling so hot. 

He wants to be cheerful when he sees a familiar head of orange hair jogging over as he’s crossing the quad, but honestly, it’s hard to even muster a smile. Dave barely takes one look at him before his expression slides into a frown. “Geez, Hammett, who fuckin’ died?”

Kirk spares him a glance. “Bad day,” he says listlessly. “What d’you want?”

“Well,” Dave drawls, surreptitiously casting a glance around them, “Thought you might wanna know that I have the house to myself tonight.”

_Cha-ching._

That catches Kirk’s attention, at least enough to make him turn to Dave with wary interest. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. It’s that cops and robbers party, didn’t you hear? Everyone’s taking a bus to the yard across town, and they’re not coming back until, like, four. I saw the itinerary and everything.”

Kirk’s brows slip into a puzzled frown. He almost asks what the fuck a ‘cops and robbers’ party is, then thinks better of it. “Aren’t people going to get suspicious if you keep dodging these things?” he asks instead.

“Nah, everyone knows I fuckin’ hate partner parties. And anyways, it’s not one of our shindigs, we just got invited.”

“Right,” Kirk says vaguely. He’s convinced he’ll never quite understand the intricacies of the Zeta Psi code of honour, but whatever. It’s good enough for him.

“So?” Dave prompts.

Kirk shrugs. “Yeah, sure. I could use a break. What time?”

“House should be clear by ten, I think. If it’s not, come in anyways and I’ll say we’re just smoking up.”

“Cool. Seeya.”

Dave drifts off, leaving him to walk back to the dorm on his own. When he lets himself into his room, Lars is still snoring facedown on the bed in the exact same position Kirk left him in. The pile of used tissues beside the bed seems to have grown, though.

Kirk honestly does feel a little bad for the guy. He tries his best to be quiet as he grabs his notebooks and climbs into bed with the intention of studying for a bit before dinner, taking an, ahem, _thorough_ shower, and heading over to meet Dave.

His bed is so comfy, though. So soft. The pillows behind his back seem to meld perfectly to his body, sucking him into a cocoon of warmth, making his eyelids droop. Before he knows it, his own snores are intermingling with Lars’.

+

Kirk wakes back up at 9:45 with the metal coil of his notebook jabbing into his neck. He makes a graceless, confused sound and sits up, knocking his psychology textbook off the side of the bed. For a second he just blinks confusedly into the darkness. Then he fumbles for his alarm clock.

His stomach drops when he sees the little red numbers staring back up at him.

“Shit,” he hisses, scrambling out of bed. “Fuck, shit, I-I gotta—”

“Kirk?” Lars croaks. “Dude, what are you…”

“Just— Just go back to sleep, man,” Kirk mutters as he stumbles towards the closet. He flings it open and starts haphazardly digging around inside for a change of clothes. He picks the first shirt and jeans he sees, grabs his bar of soap and shower cap and towel, and tucks it all under one arm as he runs down the hall to the showers.

Kirk’s day was bad enough before he had to wash his asshole in a communal shower stall at the busiest time of night, but hey. It’s for the greater good. And besides, it can't possibly get any worse from here, can it?

+

Turns out, it can.

When he knocks on the door at 10:23, James is the one who answers.

“Oh, it’s you,” James says, leaning on the doorframe. He’s dressed in a cheap cop uniform, of all things, complete with a flat blue hat perched on top of his head at a jaunty angle. He turns to call out to the other brothers over his shoulder; “Yo, did anyone order weed?”

Kirk’s cheeks flush, hands tightening on the straps of his backpack. “No, I’m not— I’m not selling tonight, I-I just came to see Dave.”

James’ eyebrows go up. “Oh, yeah?”

Kirk huffs an impatient little breath. He’s not even remotely in the mood for this shit right now. “Can I please just come in?”

James seems to consider it for a second, then steps aside. “I think he’s upstairs,” he relents, waiting for Kirk to enter before swinging the door shut behind him. “The bus leaves in fifteen, so tell him if he wants to see some smokin’ chicks in slutty prison garb, he’d better change his mind quick.”

Kirk doesn't even dignify that with a response. He makes his way into the living room and turns to head upstairs, flattening himself up against the wall to avoid being trampled by a couple of guys thundering down the narrow staircase.

“Hey, Quirk’s here!” Jason greets him with a cheery cuff on the shoulder as he passes. He’s also dressed in a cheap imitation of a Sheriff’s uniform; the shiny, star-shaped badge on his chest glints under the light. “You comin’ with, man? It’s gonna be totally killer.”

“No, I’m actually, uh… I’m really just here to see Dave.”

Jason grin widens. “Aw, our resident stick-in-the-mud, eh? You two got a special evening planned?”

Kirk’s cheeks are aflame. “I owe him some grass, that’s all.”

“Sure, man,” Jason says with a wink that's far too knowing for Kirk’s comfort. “While the cat’s away, the mice will play, right?”

“I-I guess,” Kirk mumbles stupidly.

“Well, I gotta go. You two have fun, though. I’ll see you next month for the Stupid Cupid party, right?”

Kirk blinks. “Uh, right. Sure.”

Jason gives him another lingering pat on the shoulder and then he’s gone, leaving Kirk standing cluelessly in his wake.

He hears James shout something, and two more guys — one in a black-and-white-striped jumpsuit, the other in a shitty rent-a-cop outfit — come hotfooting it down the hallway as Kirk reaches the landing, narrowly avoiding knocking him right back down the staircase.

Another yell rings out downstairs, followed by a responding cheer. Kirk shuffles over to Dave’s door. It’s just slightly ajar, a thin sliver of orange lamp light shining through.

The door creaks open another tiny bit under his knuckles when he raps lightly. He pokes his head in. “Hey, uh. Sorry I’m a little late.”

Dave twists around in his chair. “Oh, hey, man. C’mon in.”

Another raucous cheer floats up the stairs as Kirk lets himself into the bedroom and closes the door behind himself with a soft click. Dave has his hair pulled back into a ponytail today, the vivid orange of it falling down between his shoulder blades. The sight of it damn near makes Kirk’s mouth go dry. He looks fucking gorgeous like this — in gray sweatpants and a worn Scorpions T-shirt and bare feet, watching Kirk take a seat on his bed with a faint, pleased smile.

“I brought weed,” Kirk offers meekly. He sets his backpack down beside him and jerks the zipper open, rummaging inside for his lighter and his cigarette case of pre-rolls.

Dave is quick to get the window open. The two of them light up as the brothers carry on downstairs, Kirk sitting perched on Dave’s desk with one knee tucked up to his chest, the other foot swinging back and forth as he blows smoke out the window. It's oddly peaceful.

“Nice shirt,” Dave drawls, reaching up to tap on Kirk’s sternum.

 _Camp Pine Bough 1975_ , it says in red bubble letters. _Summer fun has just begun!_

Kirk flushes. “I got dressed in a hurry.”

Dave smirks and takes a long drag. “And I’d like to get you undressed in a hurry.”

Kirk's gaze cuts toward the bedroom door. “You think they’ll be gone soon?”

Dave shrugs. “Should be.”

The two of them keep smoking in silence.

By the time they hear the collegial whooping dies off and the door slams shut downstairs, Kirk has polished off his joint and is lying in Dave’s bed. His movements feel almost comically lethargic when Dave finally crawls over to join him.

“Hi,” he says as he pulls Dave in for a sloppy kiss. “I had, like— Mm— the _worst_ day today, man. You would not believe.”

Dave’s hand slides over his stomach, his fingers dipping under the hem of Kirk’s stupid camp shirt. “You wanna talk about it?”

A small part of Kirk is flattered that Dave would even ask, but — “Nah, it’s fine,” he shakes his head, their noses bumping. “Fuckin’ stupid shit, I guess. I-I’m just kinda tired.”

“Too tired?”

Kirk shakes his head again, this time with a soft grin. “Nah.”

Dave’s hand slides higher, rucking his shirt up to his chest. Kirk’s happy to set his glasses aside and squirm out of it, his pants and Dave’s clothes both following suit. By now, they're old pros at this; after two or three months of regular sex, the routine of it all has become somewhat comforting. It’s easier to get lost in the moment, now that they're on a familiar basis. 

“Want me to suck your dick?” Kirk offers lazily, teasingly running a hand over Dave’s cock just to feel it twitch against his stomach. He’s sprawled out flat on his back, Dave’s muscular thighs splayed around his hips as he rummages in the nightstand for the lube. The weight of him feels nice. Natural. Kirk’s already most of the way hard just from kissing and rubbing up against each other.

Dave shakes his head as he straightens up. “Nah, I wanna take care o’you first. You deserve it.”

Kirk grins, running one hand over Dave’s thigh. “Just fuck me and we’ll call it even.”

Dave doesn't complain. He slicks Kirk up and gives a cursory, two-finger kind of prep, then positions himself in the vee of Kirk’s spread legs as he reaches for the condom.

Kirk tenses, just slightly. “Hey, so what if...”

Dave pauses. Kirk stops himself, shakes his head. “Sorry. I just mean, uh.” Dave frowns. “I just mean, like. Hear me out, but do you, y’know… Have you been seeing anybody else lately?”

Dave cocks his head a little, then gives a snort of amused derision. “Fuck, no. I can barely keep up with you, you fuckin’ nympho.”

Kirk’s face goes hot. His mouth feels like the fucking Sahara desert. “Okay. So like, in theory..."

There's a pause as the meaning sinks in.

“Oh,” Dave says. 

“Yeah.”

“You mean…?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Dave says after a second, “I’m clean if you are. The whole house got tested back in October for that STD awareness campaign thing, and I haven't really… I mean, there was Marty, I guess, but we really didn't get that far.”

“Right,” Kirk says, “‘Cause I— Yeah. I’m… Me too. I went to the clinic with Lars last month, 'cause he thought that chick from Kappa gave him the clap, and then when we got our papers back, I guess I just started thinking, y'know…” he trails off.

Dave shifts his weight onto one arm and holds the condom up between them. The smooth, shiny blue packet glints in the lamplight. “Up to you, man.”

Kirk licks his lips. “Fuck it."

Dave quirks an eyebrow. “‘Fuck it’?”

“Yeah, fuck it,” Kirk grins.

He takes the condom from Dave's grasp and tosses it back onto the bedside table. Dave leans back in, covering Kirk’s body with his own. Kirk welcomes the weight of him. He makes a soft grunt of arousal as Dave noses up against his neck, lips tracing over his pulse point, daring to suck just a little — not enough to leave a proper bruise, but enough to make Kirk think about it.

“How d’you want it?” Dave asks, withdrawing just enough to meet his gaze.

Kirk lets one hand trace down Dave’s chest. “Like this," he says softly. “Maybe we can— Maybe we can just go a little slower, this time.”

Kirk’s not sure if that’s crossing some kind of line — too boyfriend-y, or too close to something a middle-aged married couple would call ‘making love’ — but he doesn't care. He’s too fucking exhausted and buzzed to suggest anything more than missionary right now. All he wants is Dave’s skin on his skin, and Dave on top of him, around him, pressing inside of him.

“I can do vanilla,” Dave agrees with a soft huff of laughter. He shifts backwards and urges Kirk’s thighs apart. 

The brief moment he has to glance down to line up feels like a fucking eternity. Kirk arches his back a little, hands raising to grip the pillow on either side of his head. He bites his lip on a whimper when Dave starts pushing in slow. 

Slow, god, so fucking slow.

Kirk plants his heels more firmly into the mattress. For a second he just watches, studying the way Dave’s mouth drops open on that first thrust.

“Jesus,” Dave breathes as he slides home. “Fuck, baby.”

He pauses and stills for a second, neither one of them really moving. Kirk flexes his hips a little, just adjusting. “Shit,” he says quietly. “S’it good?”

Once it’s in, Kirk can't really tell the difference between a condom or not, but—

“Fuck, yeah,” Dave sighs, “Shit. It’s— _yeah_.”

He rocks his hips back, then steadily pushes forward again. It’s perversely good. Kirk lets go of the pillow and reaches out for him, reaching for some part of him to hold onto; his hands find Dave’s hips and he lets his fingers rest there, just lightly, brushing against his skin with every slow push of his hips.

“Fuck,” Dave exhales. “You feel so— Fuck.”

Kirk squirms a little, his head tossing back, eyelids flickering. “You can… Faster, if you want.”

There are two bright patches of pink starting to bloom high on Dave’s freckled cheeks. He shifts his weight forward a little and sets up a steady, fluid pace, hip bones bumping up against Kirk’s ass, but it's not punishing, not harsh, not overwhelming. He grunts a little and pauses to stop and sling one of Kirk’s calves up over his shoulder, pressing in a little closer, reaching a little deeper. The motion folds his legs a little further over himself and he lets out a surprised little grunt on Dave’s next experimental thrust.

“God, that’s. Right there,” he mumbles halfway-incoherently. “Fuck, c’mon. Shit, Dave—”

The noise that comes out next is a ragged, slutty groan. His toes curl. Without his glasses, his vision is unfocused as he looks up at Dave, softening the edges of his face and the calm, focused intensity he finds there. Dave's eyes look glazed and faraway.

The minutes seem to stretch and pull like molasses. Kirk can feel himself starting to zone out, gently hovering in the buzz. He licks his lips and curls one hand around Dave’s forearm instead, trying to keep himself grounded. He can feel the way Dave shudders under his palm.

It feels almost like an afterthought when Kirk finally thinks to lift his unoccupied hand to wrap around his own dick and stroke himself in time with Dave’s tidy, rhythmic thrusts. He teeth sink into his lower lip as he give a hiccupy moan, hips hitching up to meet Dave’s. He hisses a curse. He can't move that well like this, with one leg tossed up and the other planted into the mattress, but it’s fine; for once, neither of them are in a rush.

“So fucking tight, baby, feel so good stretched around my cock,” Dave murmurs. His hair is falling out of his ponytail a little, a few short strands framing his face, swaying with the motion. Kirk reaches out to splay one palm wide over Dave’s collarbone, fingers resting on the side of his neck, feeling the hot shift and pulse of his skin. He whimpers, gasps out a _fuck yeah, dude_. He’s barely even concentrating on getting himself off anymore. He’s just floating in the sheer fucking pleasure of it, the room spinning a little around him, and—

“Alright?” Dave asks, his voice buoying up into Kirk’s thoughts as he leans down to nose at Kirk’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Kirk agrees. “Yeah, I’m… Man, I’m fucking stoned.”

"Me too," Dave huffs a laugh. His hips slow to the barest of incremental movements as he leans in to trade kisses. “‘M not gonna last a whole lot longer, baby, I’m almost…”

Kirk's chin nudges up, his knuckles brushing against Dave's stomach where he's still lazily jacking himself off. He gasps when their lips part with a soft click. “I wanna ride you," he murmurs between them. “I-I wanna— Fuck, I wanna be on top when you come. Wanna feel you inside me."

Dave groans softly, ducking his head. “Oh my god, shut up, I’m seriously gonna lose it.”

Kirk gives a breathless, fluttery kind of laugh. Dave pulls out and shifts back enough that Kirk can manoeuvre his leg down, then clumsily rolls them over. Kirk ends up sprawled across his chest, giggling into his collarbone. The motion makes his head spin.

“Just gimme a second, lemme…” he raises himself up on his arms, clumsily walking himself backwards and settling himself over the flat of Dave’s pelvis.

He’s still grinning as he reaches behind himself for Dave’s cock. There’s a jolt of arousal as his fingers slip over the soft, skin, feeling the weight of it, slippery and hot in his grasp as he twists his head to look. The blunt head of it is flushed a plummy shade of red, a bead of precome welling up in his grip. Kirk only fumbles a little to line up and sink down until the crown slips in. Dave mutters something faintly, his hands coming up to rest against Kirk’s waist. He feels giddy and off-balance as he braces himself and shifts his weight back. It’s easier this time; smoother, more relaxed, just one long, hot slide until Dave is settled back inside of him. A comfortable feeling of fullness, resting heavy in his guts.

The noise Dave makes when he rolls his hips is next to unholy. It’s half-moan, half-groan, humming deep and low in his chest and vibrating right through Kirk’s fucking bones. “ _Fuck_.”

Kirk relishes the way Dave’s grip tightens against his waist, fingertips pressing into the softness there. He grins and repeats the motion. Faster, now. Getting into the rhythm of it. He drops a hand back down to grip himself anew, stroking hard and fast, determined to reach his own finish. Dave looks positively enraptured by it all. His cheeks are stained a vivid shade of pink as he gazes up at Kirk, his hair a frizzy mess, his eyes dark and his lips flushed red from kissing.

“Fill me up so good,” Kirk tells him. “Wanna feel it when you come, wanna—”

He sinks down a little harder, twisting his wrist at the same time, giving a choked-out, whimpery grunt. Dave’s hand drops to cover his own, wrapping around his knuckles and squeezing a little tighter, urging him to accelerate the motion of his wrist.

The peak of it seems to come hurtling out of nowhere, catching Kirk by surprise. It barely takes half a dozen more stokers before his mouth drops open and his head lolls forward, hips hiking up sharply and shuddering as he comes with a quiet gasp, all over Dave’s stomach and their joined hands.

“Shit, I’m gonna,” Dave bites out. He’s still thrusting up into Kirk, short and fast and jerky, his hand lifting back up to grip at Kirk’s hips, unintentionally smearing come onto his skin. Kirk just grunts and moans, brows furrowing together in pleasure as Dave fucks him through the aftershocks and then squeezes once more, tight, blunt fingernails digging in as he stills and comes. Kirk chokes out a whimper as Dave grinds up into him, warm and wet. There’s a steady litany of filth falling from his lips, muttered curses and half-praises alike, almost none of it registering through the sheer static. 

By the time Dave finally stills, Kirk feels like he's run a fucking marathon. He keels forward onto Dave’s chest and just lies there for a second, slumped and panting. The boundaries between his skin and Dave's skin and the whole room have all begun to blur into one warm, comfortable cocoon.

”You’re fucking magic, Hammett,” Dave finally says. His chest vibrates under Kirk’s cheek, thrumming through his skull.

Kirk exhales a dopey laugh as Dave’s arms come up to hold him. He’s still sort of crouched over Dave, his hips starting to twinge with the spread of his thighs.

Finally, he musters the strength to lift his tired body, leaning forward and letting Dave’s cock slip from his ass. He feels his hole clench weakly at the loss, and then—

“Fuck,” he says softly, looking back up to meet Dave’s gaze. “Fuck, it’s…”

Dave reaches between Kirk’s legs with curious fingers, feeling over the puffy rim of his asshole where the mess of come and lube is sliding back out.

Kirk has to duck his head at the feeling of it sliding down his perineum, wet and slick, his breathing coming in short gasps as Dave drags his fingers through the mess, up the crack of his ass, pushes it back inside with an uncomfortable squelch. His thighs are trembling. His whole _body_ is trembling.

“Fuck,” Dave says reverently, low in his throat. Kirk meets his gaze and leans in close, drops a kiss to the corner of his lips and rolls off sideways with a laugh, his messy thighs splaying lazy-wide. He doesn't protest when Dave leans in over him and noses at his throat, kissing at his neck as his fingers creep back down over his stomach like a man possessed. It’s way too soon for Kirk to get hard again, but he lets Dave play with him anyway, arching his back with half-lidded eyes as Dave tucks two fingers down behind his balls and pushes in to the knuckle, too soon and too hard, forcing his asshole open.

Kirk can feel the way it drips out, can see the way Dave’s mouth goes slack with awe when he leans down to watch. He squirms. Dave pushes deeper and his legs twitch hard, a soft, shuddery mewl of protest escaping as the pain-pleasure ricochets up his spine, but he doesn't push away.

“Dave, shit—”

“Fuck,” Dave looks up at him. “Baby, you should see yourself, you look so fucking wet for me…”

Kirk gasps, weakly, his hips flexing. His cock twitches weakly against his stomach, sensitive and raw. “Dave,” he swallows hard, “I’m— God, Please.”

“I wanna fuck you again,” Dave says, and Kirk gives a little sob, biting his lip as his head kicks back against the pillow. He nods and thrusts up, restless against the overwhelming sensation. “Hey. Look at me.”

Kirk looks down over his own heaving ribcage to meet Dave’s gaze. He feels kind of frazzled and fucked out and maybe just a little loose, but there’s enough lube and come leftover that he knows Dave could slide in easy, and jesus, that thought alone is enough to make his breathing hitch. Something about the thought of it — sprawled out on his back with his legs in the air, Dave’s own fucking jizz slicking the way — makes his guts flutter and his skin go hot. His heart is hammering hard inside his ribcage.

“I-I want you to,” he breathes. “You can— Please, it's so much, Dave, it's...”

Dave just smiles. He leans in to mouth along Kirk’s stomach, slowly trailing his lips over the softness of Kirk’s hips, the dip of his pelvis, the shallow slope beneath his ribs. It’s almost painfully intimate. Kirk is still shuddering with overstimulation at each little nip of teeth, his skin still salty and sweat-clammy under the flick of Dave’s tongue.

“You look good like this,” Dave tells him, voice low.

Kirk’s giggle is only a little slurred. “Like what? Like I’ve just had my brains fucked out?”

“Yeah,” Dave agrees, amused, “By me.”

Dave rolls to one side and moves back up the bed, until they're face to face. His hand comes up to rest on Kirk’s cheek, prompting him to tilt his head to the side for a lazy, openmouthed kiss. 

“Gimme ten minutes and we’ll go again,” he mumbles. His hand is already busy trailing back down Kirk’s chest — tweaking a nipple, smoothing over his ribs, pale fingers tracing swirls over his skin.

+

**Author's Note:**

> misc. notes:  
> -the basic premise of a cops & robbers party is that you show up in costume & get “handcuffed”/tied/assigned to a partner for the rest of the night….. i really cannot express just how bad of an idea this is when alcohol is involved jsjdksjdjs but alas  
> -jason w his [sheriff](https://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com/post/636881870733377536) [badge](https://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com/post/636881702713704448)... hello 💘  
> -they're called STIs now, not STDs!! also i hope i don't have to explain how problematic it is to invoke connotations of “cleanliness” when discussing STIs… but colloquialisms  
> -also this isn't like. the prime example of fluid bonding ethics & conversation, but! dumb closeted fratboys make do. remember to be safe, communicate well & get tested frequently or else i'll personally come bully you
> 
> \--
> 
> as always, feel free to come say hi on tumblr @[shotgunmessiahs](http://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com) !! 💕


End file.
